Walking in the Rain
By: Anonymous Donor
Warning: angsty, moody, rain, POV
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't sue. I got about enough for a pair of
dirty sweat socks. Ewwwww.
~ * ~
This is me. A lonely man outside in the rain. I don't even know why I'm out
here. I guess the rain helps me think. What am I doing here? I should be
with my family, my friends We're all in bad shape because of it, I think.
But then again, if that's true, why don't I feel sad? Why haven't I mourned?
He was my friend, my best friend, or at least the best friend the Perfect
Soldier could have. I don't like that he's gone, but he did it of his own
accord. He knew what he was leaving behind. I guess that maybe I've just
excepted what's happened or maybe the Perfect Soldier still remains after
all these years.
He was in pain, but not physical pain. He once told me that it was like
cat's scratching at his mind. I'm glad he's out of that pain, but does he
realize what kind of pain he's caused those he left behind? I guess I am
sad. I guess this really is painful. The Perfect Soldier is gone.
He was strong, very strong. I don't think anyone in his position would have
made it as long as he did. He had many problems, all of them in his mind.
But he kept an iron will. He tried to tell us he was alright, even when we
urged him to get help. He refused. He knew he couldn't afford it, and he
wouldn't take money from any of us. He tried alternatives, but nothing
seemed to work. Maybe he was destined to die before what we thought was his
time.
Maybe it was best for him, to stop living in all the pain. Did he even
realize the pain it caused us? Does he realize how much we hurt? I think
I'm being selfish. I just hope he did the right thing.
It's raining harder now. It just seems to be dumping from the clouds. It
fits the mood, though. The dreary, depressing, gray sky fits perfectly in
my mind, at least.
I hope he's at peace now. He was the greatest person I ever knew. He was
loud and at some times obnoxious, but kind and simple. He always tried to be
happy, but we would always talk to him and find out exactly how he was really
feeling. He couldn't hide it from us. It was evident in his eyes. Those
clear, dark, cobalt eyes that will haunt me forever.
I hope he's found all the answers he's ever needed in this mixed up life. I
hope his soul can finally rest. I know he'll be looking down on us. All of
us. He probably feels for us. I think the rain could be his tears.
I've walked quite a long way in this warm summer rain. Where am I? From
here, I can look across this grassy little hill to the cities of his country.
I can see it all, once I get past the sight of these great, gray, stone
grave markers. Somehow, my aimless stride has brought me to the local
cemetery, the cemetery we buried him in only hours before.
The ground in front of his tombstone is still soft and warm, but the stone
angel that resides over it is cold. The inscription we had inscribed upon it
reads: "Here eternally lies a dear friend and brother to us all, Duo
Maxwell. A.C. 180- 210. May you forever shine down on us from your place in
the sky." I hope he does.
I shouldn't stay here. It's too depressing. I can see him now on the angel,
laughing at me for this, but that's the way he was. I'll come back and visit
often, but, right now, I can't handle it. Goodbye, my friend. May you rest
in peace. As for me, I'll just keep walking in the rain.
~ * ~
A.N. Okay, so this started as a story for my sophomore English class last year. Big
deal. But anyway, the comments I got from my teacher were "Nice narrative.
Style- moody- Good descriptive word choice." So, some feedback, please?
By: Anonymous Donor
Warning: angsty, moody, rain, POV
Disclaimer: Don't own them, don't sue. I got about enough for a pair of
dirty sweat socks. Ewwwww.
~ * ~
This is me. A lonely man outside in the rain. I don't even know why I'm out
here. I guess the rain helps me think. What am I doing here? I should be
with my family, my friends We're all in bad shape because of it, I think.
But then again, if that's true, why don't I feel sad? Why haven't I mourned?
He was my friend, my best friend, or at least the best friend the Perfect
Soldier could have. I don't like that he's gone, but he did it of his own
accord. He knew what he was leaving behind. I guess that maybe I've just
excepted what's happened or maybe the Perfect Soldier still remains after
all these years.
He was in pain, but not physical pain. He once told me that it was like
cat's scratching at his mind. I'm glad he's out of that pain, but does he
realize what kind of pain he's caused those he left behind? I guess I am
sad. I guess this really is painful. The Perfect Soldier is gone.
He was strong, very strong. I don't think anyone in his position would have
made it as long as he did. He had many problems, all of them in his mind.
But he kept an iron will. He tried to tell us he was alright, even when we
urged him to get help. He refused. He knew he couldn't afford it, and he
wouldn't take money from any of us. He tried alternatives, but nothing
seemed to work. Maybe he was destined to die before what we thought was his
time.
Maybe it was best for him, to stop living in all the pain. Did he even
realize the pain it caused us? Does he realize how much we hurt? I think
I'm being selfish. I just hope he did the right thing.
It's raining harder now. It just seems to be dumping from the clouds. It
fits the mood, though. The dreary, depressing, gray sky fits perfectly in
my mind, at least.
I hope he's at peace now. He was the greatest person I ever knew. He was
loud and at some times obnoxious, but kind and simple. He always tried to be
happy, but we would always talk to him and find out exactly how he was really
feeling. He couldn't hide it from us. It was evident in his eyes. Those
clear, dark, cobalt eyes that will haunt me forever.
I hope he's found all the answers he's ever needed in this mixed up life. I
hope his soul can finally rest. I know he'll be looking down on us. All of
us. He probably feels for us. I think the rain could be his tears.
I've walked quite a long way in this warm summer rain. Where am I? From
here, I can look across this grassy little hill to the cities of his country.
I can see it all, once I get past the sight of these great, gray, stone
grave markers. Somehow, my aimless stride has brought me to the local
cemetery, the cemetery we buried him in only hours before.
The ground in front of his tombstone is still soft and warm, but the stone
angel that resides over it is cold. The inscription we had inscribed upon it
reads: "Here eternally lies a dear friend and brother to us all, Duo
Maxwell. A.C. 180- 210. May you forever shine down on us from your place in
the sky." I hope he does.
I shouldn't stay here. It's too depressing. I can see him now on the angel,
laughing at me for this, but that's the way he was. I'll come back and visit
often, but, right now, I can't handle it. Goodbye, my friend. May you rest
in peace. As for me, I'll just keep walking in the rain.
~ * ~
A.N. Okay, so this started as a story for my sophomore English class last year. Big
deal. But anyway, the comments I got from my teacher were "Nice narrative.
Style- moody- Good descriptive word choice." So, some feedback, please?